Yes, I know that the Armory was held nearly a month ago back in March, but it wasn’t until today that I have felt the need to comment. Perhaps I was a bit uninspired after perusing through every day of the exhibition (echoing Chuck Close's "dull and ordinary" sentiment), or maybe I just needed some time to marinate over everything I saw. I think it might be a bit of both.
As more art work and more viewers were stuffed into what I used to think was a vacuum of a pier, the seemingly ever growing size of the exhibition has made digestion of its offerings similar to that of a Per Se tasting - overwhelming each of the senses until complete exhaustion. It is only when one has been given time to recover that they can adequately appreciate its complexities and nuances. For me, the appreciation began and ended with the work of James Nares.
(Image from paulkasmingallery.com)
On exhibit from the Paul Kasmin Gallery, James Nares' Migration of Vowels II (seen on the left) struck me like a cord when I happened to see it from my peripheral vision as I tried to avoid colliding into the crowds, including those nursing their glasses of champagne. Its size first attracted me (floor-to-ceiling, I would say). Its color saturated my vision: a beautiful, iridescent hunter green—almost as if snow-tipped pine trees were swaying in a difficult winter wind. As I walked closer to the painting, the striking ebb-and-flow cream slash in the center of the work began to reveal itself to me. Its complex and undulating turns are both harmonious and violent, like the movement of a caught fish's body when being reeled in - first full of desperate energy, and then eventually succumbing in a quiet plea. It completely engulfed me as I ran my eyes up-and-down and back-and-forth the asymmetrically descending mass of this "turbulent beauty” (stealing James’ description of his own work).
After returning home, I began to research. Upon reading Glenn O'Brien’s dialogue with James in Interview (Read the full article here - http://www.interviewmagazine.com/art/james-nares/), a parallel suddenly dawned on me. James shares a similar philosophy to Alexander McQueen: a focus on the artist's proof of authenticity in labored creation. James, I found to my surprise, creates his own brushes, thus accomplishing his creative mark and control in the most fundamental origins of his work: the tool with which he paints. "A lot of it had to do with reinventing the brush, the surface, and the paint," expresses James in the interview. He continues: "To make the ones I like most right now, I take household brushes and chop them up and glue them back together again and put my own handles on. And the brushes are like the characters in my drama or something. I bring them onto the stage, and I kind of know what they can do, and I turn them loose within the confines of the studio, like dancers."
We find the labor of his process, his action painting, in the repetitive application and removal of paint. "I'm doing the same thing over and over and over. Everything in my studio goes in circles. I move in circles, the paint goes on and the paint goes off, and it goes down and it comes off, and it's very repetitive." It is only after reaching that "perfection of a movement or a moment" when James considers his painting complete and leaves it to dry. What remains is the conclusion of his repetitive labor, an imprint of his gestural hand work. Or, as Harold Rosenberg stated best, "the revelation contained in the act".
In the New York Times review of McQueen's Spring 1999 show, Anne-Marie Schiro (Read the article here - http://www.nytimes.com/1998/09/29/style/review-fashion-in-london-indulging-in-a-bit-of-creativity.html?pagewanted=1) explores the reality of fashion shows. In the review, she calls attention to how the most poignant and expressive works by designers’ own hands are rarely produced out of the show sample due to its high cost. Rather, designers are forced to outsource their designs to foreign manufacturers, further removing the designers’ direct physical involvement with the garment. In turn, what shows up in retail stores is often a diluted design and commercial work.
As a point of comparison, look at the difference between McQueen’s work versus Dolce & Gabbana's ready-made "painted" finale dresses from their Spring 2008 collection. "A painting that is an act is inseparable from the biography of the artist", said Harold Rosenberg. By not showing the painting process itself, a process that is so closely linked to the hand of the artist, the designers inevitably reduced the painterly to a mere and expressionless surface print, devoid of any authorship. Unlike McQueen, Dolce's collection is not a reflection of a moment of their lives.
(Images from core.form-ula.com and style.com)
It is only through works like those of James Nares and Alexander McQueen that we can clearly see the intent to protect the artist's authenticity by dissolving all the commercial noise that interrupts their voice. It is a current plague in the fashion industry, with designers consistently worried about their markets and commercial success instead of their genuine audience. I hope that the new garde will learn to listen.
"I feel trapped by beauty, and maybe I try to use beauty as a trap in my own way." - James Nares
"My name's in it, so you're going to have to wear what I say." - Alexander Lee McQueen
"I feel trapped by beauty, and maybe I try to use beauty as a trap in my own way." - James Nares
"My name's in it, so you're going to have to wear what I say." - Alexander Lee McQueen
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